Bloom

Gucci Bloom is tuberose stripped of its usual soapy civility and presented in full, fleshy opulence. Alberto Morillas has crafted something unashamedly maximal here—a white floral that doesn't apologise for its indolic edges or its almost bruised sweetness. That 69% tuberose accord reading makes perfect sense when you encounter the thickness of this scent, the way it crowds the air with honeyed petals and something darker underneath, something earthy and skin-like. The Rangoon creeper—a note rarely seen in mainstream perfumery—adds a peculiar greenness that keeps the composition from sliding into pure confectionery, though there's an unmistakable powderiness that anchors the whole affair in a vintage aesthetic. This isn't the crisp, ozonic white florals of the 2000s; it's richer, more Italian, more lived-in.

The sandalwood and orris create a subtle animalic undertone that makes this perfume feel warm-blooded rather than merely pretty. It's the kind of scent worn by women who've grown comfortable with their own intensity—not aggressive, but unapologetic. There's something deliberately old-fashioned about its construction, a throwback to when white florals meant heavy crystal bottles and dressing tables rather than fresh laundry. The pomelo's bitterness barely registers against the floral onslaught, serving more as a tart counterpoint than a true citrus introduction. This is a fragrance for those who find minimalism tedious, who want their presence announced by petals and powder and that peculiar muskiness tuberose develops on skin.